


treatise on having

by PhoenixAccio



Category: Hunt Down The Freeman (Video Game)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Fire, M/M, Poetry, lighters, very freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-15 03:53:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29553111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhoenixAccio/pseuds/PhoenixAccio
Summary: the jacket of his civvies is still hanging on the back of the chair when m wakes up
Relationships: (again maybe) - Relationship, (maybe) - Relationship, Mitchell Shephard/Adam (Hunt Down The Freeman), Mitchell Shephard/Nick (Hunt Down The Freeman), m/■■■■
Kudos: 3





	treatise on having

1\. 

the jacket of his civvies is still hanging on the back of the chair when m wakes up, but the bed is cold and ■■■■ is long gone. m rolls over onto his back, into the middle of the bunk. it's too small to share, so he sleeps on his side when ■■■■ is here, packed in like cigarettes in a carton. matchsticks in a box. m thinks a lot about fire, recently. he thinks a lot about ■■■■. he takes the jacket with him and doesn't know why. 

2\. 

the air is bitingly cold. m reaches into not-his-pocket and finds two quarters, five small stones, zero cigarettes, and a lighter. shiny. zippo. he flicks it on and watches the tiny flame dance in front of his face. it's gives no real warmth, and it smells like not dead yet. m considers burning, but closes the lighter instead. 

3\. 

there are never any cigarettes. he hates that. he isn't addicted to the nicotine, he just likes the way it smells like leaving and never coming back. it used to smell like staying, but it's his smell now and nobody else can have it. m takes out the lighter again. he watches the light until his eyes are moth-eaten spots 

4\. 

the water is too cold for swimming. the sharks don't care so neither will m. his pants are soaked to the knee. the lighter sparks, but it doesn't catch anymore. the smell is gone, too. m puts a rock into his pocket, but not the one with rocks already. ■■■■ will appreciate it, he hopes. that's stupid, though, so he decides not to after all.

5\. 

there are never any cigarettes. this time there is no fire. m tries to light the end with the spark, which is too small to catch. m scowls and puts them both away. the bunk is still cold on one side, but m doesn't think the animals will care. 

+1. 

m he says and it's been eons and seconds. you tell him you have his jacket. you tell him you have his lighter too. his face is soft and he is soft and you will cut him rough and tearing like paper, you think. m i have lighter fluid is what he says next and he holds his your his lighter in his hands and soaks the cotton well. you don't know why his careful gentle hands pulling it apart make you feel like someone has taken a seam-cutter to your edges and followed the lines up around over through. he gives the lighter back even though it's his but he keeps the jacket. you don't know if he missed you or if you missed him but the bed is empty warm when you wake up and there is no jacket on the chair.


End file.
